


keller

by ghoultown



Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: Angst, Breakups, Caring Hotch, Deaf Spencer, Hardships, Lots of Angst, M/M, Stubborn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-21
Updated: 2018-03-29
Packaged: 2019-01-20 17:25:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 24
Words: 15,031
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12437916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghoultown/pseuds/ghoultown
Summary: Spencer has been dating Aaron for three years. He's been deaf for two months. Aaron's voice is the last one he can remember.





	1. Chapter 1

Spencer squinted at the screen. His legs were folded over, sweatpants rubbing against his skin, hair a mess of brown on his head. His fingers shot up to push his glasses further up on his nose as he watched the woman in the video. Her eyes were blue and her hair looked like it would be soft, but the necklace around her neck looked sharp. He tucked his hair behind his ear and placed his hands on his knees. The bed shifted as he moved. 

As she began to speak, her hands moved almost in rhythm with her lips. On her left hand was a ring that was just as spiky as her necklace. She adjusted it, pausing in her speech, before picking right back up into the introduction. 

"Today, I'm going to teach you some basic ASL, which is American Sign Language. I've got a list here," she leaned off camera and quickly returned with a notebook with what seemed to be a hundred terms written in three, straight lines down the paper, "of the words I'm going to, kind of, um, teach to you."

Spencer snorted in the back of his throat. Hopefully, she was more fluent in sign language than in her speech, he thought. He shook it off quickly. He was in no position to judge. 

"I'll just start with the most basic... um..." She flattened her palm, placing it in the middle of her chest and making a circular movement. The word  _Please_ appeared on the screen beside her. Spencer paused the video. Slowly, mirroring her movements, Spencer looked down at himself and repeated the movement until it seemed right. 

He unpaused the video and watched some more. She closed her fist and held it up for the camera to see, moving it up and down in a nodding movement.  _Yes_. She then changed her hand posture into a two-fingered pinch.  _No._ She flattened her left hand, curling her right hand and running it along her left palm.  _Excuse me._

Spencer pressed his palms to his eyes underneath his glasses. It seemed so pointless. He could read lips. He could speak, he knew what vibrations were normal in his throat. He didn't have many friends these days anyway. As long as Aaron could understand him, which he could, things were peachy. He could translate on the few occasions that his old team would visit. Things were fine. 

Or, they would be, as soon as the crowd of strange carpenter people in his living room would leave. Which would be soon, if Spencer could help it. 

He slipped the glasses off of his nose just as he noticed a shifting in his peripheral. He jumped and turned, his shoulders relaxing and sinking as he saw Aaron there. 

"Hey, sorry," the man smiled apologetically. His eyes slid from Spencer's face to the laptop on the bed in front of him. "What's that?"

Spencer turned, quicker than lightning, and slammed the computer shut. "Nothing."

He closed his eyes and let out a sigh. He knew he'd gotten stuck on the 'n' sound again and that it sounded much less sharp than he wanted it to be. But he couldn't change that, not now. That didn't mean he wasn't infuriated by it.

The bed dipped next to him. He felt fingers brush his ear and he pressed his lips together tightly. 

The hand disappeared after a moment. Spencer reached behind him and pressed his palm against Aaron's chest. He felt the low vibrations and sighed. Why did Aaron always insist on speaking when his back was turned? He couldn't read vibrations. He wasn't a miracle worker. 

Well, he knew  _that_ vibration. That was the "I love you" vibration. He could read that with just his pinky finger. 

"I love you too," Spencer whispered, not focusing on the shape and size of his mouth, but Aaron knew what he sounded like, it didn't matter. It didn't matter how he lingered on the 'l' and the 'ooh' noises. It didn't matter that he probably sounded ridiculous, or that the phrase itself sounded ridiculous. Aaron certainly didn't mind. Or at least, he didn't show that he minded. He reluctantly turned and opened an eye. Aaron's shirt was covered in white powder and Spencer raised an eyebrow. 

"We're done," Aaron hiked a thumb over his shoulder, "with the smoke alarm, anyway. They're coming back tomorrow to help bring in the new oven with the...what?"

Spencer was glaring at him, now. He didn't trust his mouth to speak when he was angry.

"What?" Aaron asked before recognition swept across his face. "Oh."

Spencer tapped his chest with his forefinger five times aggressively.  _I can do things myself._ He threw a flat palm toward the open door.  _I don't need a new fucking oven to help me._

"Spencer..." Aaron sighed, "What if you want to make something when I'm gone? How will you know when it's ready?"

Spencer shook his head and tapped his temple with his finger.  _I'm smart. I'll figure it out_ _._ He made a face.  _I could just buy cookies, anyway._

"I know you're smart." Aaron sighed. "You're very competent, but with my job--"

Spencer's eyes narrowed.  _Don't._

"--I can't be here all the time. Stop looking at me like that." Aaron ran a hand through his hair, "I just love you and I want you to be safe."

Spencer shrugged.  _I will be. No worries._

The brunette turned back to the computer. He jumped as a hand fell on his shoulder, but it quickly retreated and the body on the bed next to him disappeared. The foot he had flung over the side of the bed in his furious silent argument with his boyfriend felt the tremor of a door slamming closed. He opened the laptop again and stared at the woman on the screen. 

He wondered what her voice sounded like. 


	2. Chapter 2

Spencer hated the wake-up alarm Aaron had installed two days before. He hated it. It blasted sound and flashed bright lights to wake him up with both vibration and visual stimulation, or that was what the package said. In reality, it was just the worst. It was called Sonic Boom for a reason, he supposed. He would much rather have a regular alarm or one of those watches that vibrated so hard it woke him up. But no. No, Aaron had to use all of his money to buy things that made his life a living hell. But, rest assured, it was a safe living hell.

He opened his eyes, grimacing as beams of light hit him right in the eye. He swept his arm across the nightstand, covering the OFF button with his entire palm. Aaron didn't sleep in the same room as him anymore. He'd set up an office in the guest room and he'd fall asleep in the mattress there in order to wake up and get to work straight away. He was on leave from field work, but there was no doubt that case files were piling up. Spencer rubbed his eyes and reached for his glasses.

It was 5:30 am. He'd been getting up that early for about five weeks, and he still wasn't quite used to it. Things tasted weird at 5:30 am. The house seemed slightly more haunted, and the air was just slightly heavier. It was dumb. But his favorite show came on at that time, and it only felt real when he was watching it live.

He turned one of the kitchen lights on. He looked through half-closed eyes at the kitchen landscape and grimaced. The pantries were probably barren and he hadn't set foot in a grocery store for a good couple of months. Something twinkled in his periphery; the coffee machine. Coffee would work. Coffee was a good breakfast option.

Spencer wondered if Aaron was still asleep. He remembered what Aaron's snores sounded like. He could probably put his hand to the ground, he could feel it. He almost did but decided not to. Caffeine was needed to watch his show. Caffeine was needed to make jokes about his deafness. 

He stared at the machine for a long time. It was 5:35 by the time he finally decided it would be okay to make coffee by himself. It was so stupid. Of course he could make coffee. He was a grown up. He was able to care for himself. 

Spencer carefully placed the cup into the machine and took a step back. If he went to get Aaron, it would be so embarrassing. He was stubborn. If he went to get Aaron, he'd actually go into hibernation. 

An image of himself tripping on an electric cord and spilling hot coffee all over himself, making himself even more of a freak, flashed through his mind. He frowned and glanced toward Aaron's room. 

His phone vibrated in his pocket. 5:40 am. The show was coming on. He left the light on and the coffee maker plugged in as he sank into his pillow nest on the couch and forced himself to keep his eyes open to read the subtitles and practice reading lips a bit on the way.

The practice of saying out-loud his opinions about the characters was not lost on him. He wished he could still do that, but it was mostly just for the satisfaction of hearing himself say what he wanted to hear. This was a luxury unavailable to him, clearly. Even though Brittney was obviously in love with the handsome doctor in her sanction when he was married with kids.  _What happened the brash and sassy Brittney from the first season? The character development is rushed and backwards_ _,_ he lamented. 

Before he knew it, his phone was vibrating again. An hour had gone by pretty quickly, but TV drama always made the time go faster. Spencer shifted in place; his legs felt like they were filled with sand. His eyes shot up when the light to his right brightened. He sighed when he saw Aaron standing there with his hand resting on the light switch. 

"Sorry," Aaron said. His eyelids were heavy and Spencer tilted his head. He was glad he hadn't lost his sight. Some things were too satisfying to miss. 

Spencer shrugged and pushed himself up from the couch.  _It's okay._

Aaron stepped further into the kitchen, harsh light over his head making the angles of his face sharper. Spencer was frozen in front of the sofa, just watching him. 

The tired man spotted the half-finished coffee process and pointed at the machine. He turned his head so that Spencer could see his lips move, "You wanted to make coffee?"

Spencer nodded and pointed to the TV.  _Yeah, but my s_ _how came on._

Aaron smiled, "I'll make you some."

Spencer smiled back.  _Thanks._ He rubbed the back of his neck and looked toward the pantry.  _Do we have any food?_

"I do need to go shopping, don't I?"

Spencer made a face.  _You think?_

"We can go later today. After we wake up a bit more." Aaron noticed Spencer's panicked expression. "I'll drive. No worries. It'll be okay."

Spencer was stiff as a statue, but his stomach was like Jello.  _We?_

"Spencer." Aaron was in front of him now, his hands on his shoulders. "It's okay. I'll drive carefully."

The brunette's eyes softened slowly. He reached up and placed his hand on the side of Aaron's face. He screwed his face up tightly.  _You need to shave._

Aaron laughed and hugged Spencer to his chest. He was saying something, Spencer could feel it. He figured it was something along the lines of: " _You_ need to shave." Followed by a sigh, cool breath on his neck, and the familiar I Love You vibrations. 

Spencer hummed.  _I love you too._


	3. Chapter 3

The charm of the grocery store was fully invested in its noise. Without the distractions of kids crying two aisles down, or the rickety shopping cart, or even the frustrating automated voices at the self-checkout counters that gathered near the frozen food freezers, it was just cold in the building. No matter how many times he'd tuck himself into Aaron's side, or duck into the chip shelves, his entire body was frozen and with no sound, he couldn't distract himself.  

Aaron glanced down at Spencer. He opened his mouth but stopped and tapped the brunette's shoulder. He looked up with pleading eyes. "What's wrong?" 

Spencer pointed to his arm, riddled with goosebumps.  _I'm cold._  

The older man rolled his eyes and stopped in the middle of the floor, pushing his jacket off of his shoulders and onto Spencer's. "Just ask next time, okay? I don't want you to be cold." 

Spencer glared at him, pointing to his ear.  _I can't._  

"You can find a way," Aaron said with a smart smirk. Spencer shook his head and looked away. 

Spencer pushed a few of his favorite cereals in the basket. The crunchiest ones. Now that he didn't have to tread carefully around what food to keep in the pantry, as the noise of other people chewing made him sick, he figured it was a nice opportunity to take advantage of his misfortune.  

Aaron gave him a look but shrugged and pushed the cart further down the tiled floor, the cart wheels catching on themselves and screaming until Aaron would push them back into place with the toe of his shoe. Spencer frowned as he saw them scuttle. He kind of missed the rattle. He looked straight ahead as they moved past the towering shelves, moving further toward the front of the shop, toward the parking lot.  

 

 

_He slips into the car. The backseat is chock full of groceries that Aaron will probably trash anyway since he's  on the damn health food kick. It' s utterly ridiculous. He slams the car door shut and just sits there for a while. This parking lot has a few memories wandering around.  Every once in a while they'll  bump into the driver side window and it scares the hell out o_ _f him. His phone buzzes; Aaron is home and waiting for him. He closes his eyes and rests his forehead on the steering wheel. He can't do this anymore._

 

The cart stopped in front of the shelves that were filled with different flavors of Oreos. They hadn't had junk food in a while, Aaron thought. Mostly under the doctors' requests, but Aaron figured a little bit wouldn't hurt. Spencer had been acting strangely recently. Maybe spoiling him would make him feel better. Maybe spoiling him would get him to talk again. He hated the silence. Of course, he couldn't even imagine what Spencer felt.  

"Do you want this?" Aaron asked as he grabbed one of the boxes of cookies. He waited for an answer for a few moments before sighing to himself and turning to grab the brunette's attention, but he was met with an empty space. "Spencer?" 

He dropped the cookies into the basket and pushed it along with him as he turned the corner, glancing down each aisle in search of a hiding Spencer. He reached the other side of the store in no time; no trace of Spencer. The panic settled in his ears, but he realized it was no use to make much fuss about it. There was no way he could have wandered far—oh.  

Aaron left the cart at the opening of the aisle. He took careful steps toward Spencer, who was standing in front of one of the smaller shelves. He moved up behind him, looking over his shoulder to see what he was staring so intently and sadly at. Aaron sighed and placed his chin on Spencer's shoulder, wrapping his arms around the skinny waist in a tiny act of comfort.  

Spencer sighed and rested his temple against Aaron's as he stared at the rows of earbuds and just reminisced about a time when this wouldn't ruin his state of mind. 


	4. Chapter 4

Midnight snacks were a bit harder to gauge, now that he was officially locked in silence. He wouldn't know if he dropped a spoon or closed a drawer too loud or something like that. He settled on sitting on the kitchen floor with his hand in a plastic bag full of Cheez-Its. He tried not to move his wrist too much, because the terror associated with an unwanted crinkle of the bag was faintly recognizable in his mind. The feeling of getting caught while sleepily shoving food into your face wasn't lost on him. At least he wouldn't hear Aaron scolding him for it. 

He rested his head back on the cabinet. All was not well in the kingdom, and he knew that, but it was much harder to understand just how unwell things were, as he couldn't hear people screaming. So how bad could it be? Spencer threw another Cheez-It in the general direction of his face. He leaned forward only to catch it in his mouth. He did. 

A few thoughts popped up as he chewed thoughtfully on the floor of his kitchen—of which he was slowly realizing was a big of a safe space, nothing had changed much in that department—and none of which were particularly important.  _How loud is Aaron snoring right now? How loud is the new smoke alarm? What is Aaron dreaming about?_ _If I went into his room and laid with him, would he think less of me?_

By far, the worst side effect to his misfortune was that he couldn't remember things. He couldn't remember the way his voice sounded, even if he knew how to control it. He couldn't remember what the microwave beep sounded like or how his favorite song went, or what accents people had. All of that was lost, the way he interpreted life was completely lost and everything was a silent movie that he didn't want to watch.

The one thing he remembered was Aaron's voice. 

_He almost screamed when Aaron's ringtone pierced the air again. He was on his way, damn it. Aaron knew that. He'd texted him before he left. He always texted before he went anywhere. That was their deal, their unspoken_ _deal_ _,_ _that every time Spencer stepped out of Aaron's sight, he was on a technological leash. The car swerved on the open road when he reached over to grab the phone._

He pushed himself off of the floor. He slipped a bit, and he must have made a noise (or several) as Aaron ran out of his office/bedroom and into the dim light of the kitchen. His hair was a mess and he hadn't put a shirt on in his panic.

"You okay?" Aaron asked. Spencer could imagine the way Aaron's voice would crack. His hair flopped down over his forehead. 

Spencer stood still but gave a gentle nod and pointed to the box of Cheez-Its on the floor.  _Yeah. Hungry._

"Sounded like you were dying," Aaron whispered, rubbing the back of his neck. "You going back to bed soon?"

Spencer looked at his feet and shrugged.  _Don't know. Maybe._

He felt a hand on his shoulder and looked up at Aaron, who was looking at him through slightly more alert eyes. Spencer watched his lips articulate as he spoke, "Will you come to bed with me?"

Spencer gave him a hard stare. It wasn't an answer.

"For me," Aaron continued. "Not because I'm worried for you, because I am, but because I miss you."

Spencer pointed to his chest twice.  _My bed._ He pointed to Aaron's room and made a face.  _I don't want to go in there._

"Okay," Aaron nodded. He went to kiss Spencer's cheek but Spencer placed a hand over his mouth and Aaron receded. "I'll go grab my pillow and be right there."

Spencer nodded and bent down to pick up the box but Aaron stopped him and looked in his eyes. 

"Whatever is going on between us," Aaron said, looking back and forth between Spencer's eyes, "We'll fix it."

Spencer sighed and grabbed the box, patting Aaron's face.  _Go get your pillow._

"I love you," Aaron said before turning and disappearing into his office. Spencer walked slowly to his room, building a wall of pillows halfway down the mattress. He crawled under the covers on his side and closed his eyes. He felt Aaron move the pillows between them, felt a pair of arms around his waist and a cold nose on the back of his neck. He didn't push him away, and the vibrations of Aaron's chest as he snored practically rocked him to sleep.


	5. Chapter 5

The next morning, he woke up not because of his alarm, but because of Aaron's reaction to the alarm. The older man—a unit chief with a child, an ex-wife, and a steady paycheck—scrambled to the top of the mattress, pressing his back flat against the headboard, leaving the sheets and comforters in a pile at the foot of the bed. 

Spencer calmly reached over and pressed the OFF button, straining to reach the lamp and let the room fill with calm, orange light. He looked at Aaron through gleaming, interested eyes. He hadn't seen Aaron this frazzled in awhile. It was refreshing. Nice. New.

"What was that?" Aaron asked. He was shaking a bit. Spencer thought about reaching out and taking his hand but decided against it.

 _"My alarm,"_  Spencer mouthed. He pointed to Aaron and raised an eyebrow before mouthing,  _"_ _You_ _got it for me."_

"Jesus," Aaron scrubbed a hand over his face and looked at the brunette beside him, "I'm so sorry."

 _"I can't hear it,"_ Spencer's lips moved, his mouth turning up at the sides,  _"The lights are a bit much, though."_

Aaron blushed, "Right."

Spencer shifted so that his arm wasn't pinned under his body and pointed to him,  _"You_ _did this to yourself_ _."_

Aaron sighed and smiled tiredly, "Yes. I suppose I did. It's not as loud in the other room." He looked around, toward the window, and back to Spencer, "Did you move things around?"

Spencer pointed to the dresser in the corner, and then to the vent on the ground.  _Yes. Was covering up the air._

Aaron made a face, "You could have asked me to help."

 _"You were working,"_  Spencer mouthed with a sympathetic smile. He paused for a moment before continuing.  _"I'll tell you next time, though."_

"It looks better this way," Aaron said thoughtfully. "Thank you."

They sat in silence for awhile. Spencer's eyes were drifting open and shut on their own abandon. Aaron was obviously thinking about something. His fingers were playing with the loose strings on his pajama pants. He looked to Spencer, "What time is it?"

Spencer held up five fingers, then three, and made an 'O' with his hand.  _5:30._ He thought for a moment and shook his head, reforming the numbers. _Probably 5:40, now._

Aaron gaped, "I forget you get up this early sometimes."

Spencer shrugged and have him a shy smile.  _Thanks?_

"Might as well get up," Aaron said through a long breath. He smiled at Spencer. "You have your show to watch, huh?"

 _"What are we doing today?"_ Spencer asked. He was surprised how comfortable he was, personally. He and Aaron hadn't shared a bed in a month or two. However long two weeks from the accident was. He had begun to think that the only reason he was with Aaron was because his was the only voice he could remember. But that was nonsense. Obviously. Why would he be so comfortable around him, so early in the morning? God knew that was a feat.

"Well," Aaron started, grabbing his phone and checking his calendar, "I have a few meetings today, and I have to finish some reports, but that's about it."

Spencer dropped his face into the pillow with a sigh. Well, that comfort was short lived. He lifted a hand and made a shoo motion,  _Well, go ahead._

He felt a tap on his shoulder and looked up. Aaron looked apologetic. He didn't want to hear it. He rolled over and pushed himself out of the bed. He pointed to the door and then to his eyes.  _I have a show to watch._

Aaron stood up as well, a bit hazy. He hadn't been getting up this early, so he was delirious but trying to knock himself out of it. "Can I at least sit out there with you when I start my progress report?"

Spencer acted like he was thinking about it. He certainly wasn't going to say no, because that would be mean, but he was seriously considering it. He settled on a cryptic shrug and a pivot out of the room.

Aaron's first meeting was at 7 o'clock. He left, blowing a kiss to Spencer (who either didn't notice, or just didn't catch it on purpose), and starting his 15-minute commute via car to the office building that was, at that moment, the bane of both his existence and his relationship, which he had a feeling was hanging on a thread. But that wasn't what he needed to think about while walking into a meeting that would basically give him some insight on whether or not he'd get that promotion he was holding off on telling Spencer about. 

There were a few reasons for this, of course. One, being Spencer wasn't a fan of change, especially not now that he'd gone through the biggest change in his life. The job would require him to be there for more hours, but there would be fewer guns and he'd also get a lot more money. Money for a few more accoutrements for the house, some general things they needed, money for fixing the leaky showerhead. And yes, money for surgery, but he knew that Spencer wouldn't go for that right away. He wasn't a fan of sharp things, either, and the idea of people digging around in his head was probably not on his bucket list. Best case scenario, he'd ask for video footage of it. Old habits would always die hard.

But he needed it, Aaron reminded himself as he stepped into the conference room with an arm wrapped around his resume and a fake smile on his face. They both needed it.


	6. Chapter 6

 Aaron accidentally called Spencer to tell him he was on the way home and it might have ruined Spencer more than he would care to admit. He had to lay on the floor for a while and feel the various slamming of doors beneath him by the two roommates that always managed to argue with each other and make up within seconds. He was jealous. Genuinely jealous. He also missed laughing at the way they yelled at each other. He wondered if it was the laundry, the dishes, or Greta from work.

He finished shaking just as Aaron opened the door and caught him on his back, laying on the carpet by the couch and thinking. The older man knelt beside him and held out a hand to help him up, but Spencer just pulled him down with him. Aaron landed with a thud on his back, papers slipping from his grip. 

He turned his head in order to see Aaron, and sighed. He'd never thought that looking at someone could make him so happy, but also make him feel sick. 

"What's wrong?" Aaron asked quietly, but he felt like he knew the answer.

Spencer shook his head.  _Nothing._  He pointed to Aaron's papers that were scattered across the carpet.  _How'd it_ _go_ _?_

"I got the promotion," Aaron said, though he wasn't smiling as wide as Spencer had thought he would. 

The brunette made a face.  _What?_  He squinted and pointed at Aaron's mouth.  _Where's the smile?_

"I just..." Aaron rolled over on his belly and pointed at Spencer's ears, "I worry."

Spencer's walls were built and guarded within seconds. He hummed disinterestedly. Aaron sighed and pushed Spencer's face to the side, making sure he was paying attention.

"No amount of alarms or new ovens or weird eye contact will keep you safe. You're not used to being deaf yet, and I don't think you ever will be, because it's a disability and—hey, hey, look at me," Aaron held Spencer's chin. "Look at me, please. I need you to understand."

 _"I don't want to understand,"_ Spencer mouthed, his lips tight.  _"I don't care. Let me go."_

"Spencer, there are surgeries for this. There are fixes for this."

Spencer glared at him.  _"How do you know."_

"I've been doing research," Aaron said. He slowly receded, removing his hands from Spencer as he realized how dominant his position was. He sat back on his ankles. Spencer leaned on his elbows, blowing strands of hair out of his face. "Cochlear implants are about a hundred thousand in the worst-case scenario, and that's without insurance. With this new job, I can get that in a few months."

Spencer's lips were pursed.  _I don't want it._

"Please. You don't have to live with this. We can solve it."

_It isn't a problem._

"You're the one who—okay," Aaron ran his hands through his hair and down on his face, "If it isn't a problem, then why are you so stubborn about everything that involves hearing?"

"Because this is hard," Spencer said, aloud, startling Aaron. His 'S' sounds were still slurred but he must have been thinking on the sentence for awhile because it sounded like his old self. His angry, hearing, functional old self. And it made Aaron recoil.

"I know." Aaron said quietly. "I know, but wouldn't it be easier if--"

"No." Spencer turned his head. He didn't want to see this.

"Spencer," Aaron said, practically to himself, before tapping his boyfriend's shoulder to get his attention. "Listen."

"I can't hear you." His voice wavered. He obviously didn't care to shape his mouth anymore. He was too angry. (Or too upset. The line was blurry.)

"If you'd look at me, you'd know what I was saying," Aaron said, loudly, just because he could. Spencer pretended like he didn't feel the distant vibrations of someone yelling at him. He hadn't experienced that before. He pretended as though he didn't want to know what Aaron was saying.

Aaron crawled into his view and held his shoulders. 

"Surgery would help."

"Help what."

"Help you. Us."

"Us?" Spencer's voice was surprised, in a sarcastic way. 

"I don't mean like that. Obviously, you're in need of more help than I am, but I can't watch you deteriorate like this."

"I'm not det-deteri-deter—FUCK." Spencer took a deep breath and rubbed his eyes. _"I'm fine. I'm fine."_ He took a deep breath, holding it in his chest, before letting a breath out through his nose. "I think we need a break."

Aaron blinked. "What?"

"Brea—break. We need a break. You nnneed to go."

Aaron blinked again, slower, like he was trying to wake up, like he was trying to catch up to what just happened. To what he just said. To what Spencer just said.

"No, I..." Aaron shook his head and pushed himself up onto his knees. "We can fix this."

"You're so obsess-obsessed with fixing this," Spencer said quietly. He paused, getting his thoughts together. "Like I'm a burden."

Aaron shook his head, "You're not a burden."

"It seems like I am." Spencer shut his mouth, his jaw tired. He pointed to Aaron's office and then to the door.  _Get your stuff and then leave._ He slowly flattened his palm, placing it in the middle of his chest and making a circular movement.  _Please._


	7. Chapter 7

_He didn't bother to place the phone in the stupid holder on his dash. He didn't bother to change the fact that his seatbelt was digging into his ribcage. He just answered the call and held his phone in his hand, microphone pointed at his mouth, waiting for whatever was so important that Aaron couldn't just wait until he got home._

_"I'm on the way home, Aaron, what couldn't wait?" Spencer decided to say. It tasted bitter on his tongue, but there was nothing else he thought to say that would accurately start this conversation he'd been thinking on for a few months at that point. How else could he get to the I'M GONNA NEED YOU TO GET YOUR SHIT AND LEAVE, BECAUSE I CAN'T LIVE IN THESE CONDITIONS ANYMORE part of the talk? Certainly not by answering with a quiet, dainty, "hello?" At this point, he was known for being sassy._

_"Hey, I just wanted to make sure you were okay."_

_"Well, I'm fine. I'm always fine," Spencer muttered. The steering wheel was straining to the left in his grip and he tugged it back into place. His body jolted to the right. "No need to worry yourself."_

_"I wasn't worried necessarily. You just hadn't been answering my texts."_

_"I said I was coming home, what else do you need? What would make you feel better about my leaving the house for two minutes, or God forbid, thirty?" He swerved again. He was never a good driver. For some reason he was crying, which didn't help his driving skills at all. The lines on the road became fuzzy caterpillars. He brought his hand from the wheel to wipe his eyes. His knee pressed up against the bottom of the wheel to keep it in place for a moment. Spencer rested his wrist, the one holding the phone, against the steering wheel as well. If_ _Aaron knew the state he was in, he'd actually have a panic attack._

_"Spencer, are you okay?"_

_He took a deep breath, through his nose. The car made a screeching noise and it made him cringe. "I can't do this."_

_"What?"_

_"I can't—Hold on, I can't do this while I'm driving, I might actually crash." Spencer glanced up at the rearview mirror. It was about eleven at night on a Monday. No one would be out at this time, he knew that much. He pulled as far to the side as he could on the narrow road and shut his car off, throwing the keys into the passenger seat._

_O_ _ut of sight, out of mind. O_ _ut of reach_ _._

_The two right tires were in the grass. The other two were slightly to the left of the white line. He didn't know this._ _Of course_ _he didn’t. How could he, unless he got out of the car to check? How could he have known?_

_"What do you mean, 'you can't do this while you're driving?' Spencer, are you... sorry. I... what's happening?"_

_"I'm being safe. Does that make you feel any better?" There was venom. Lots of venom. More than a lethal amount of venom, but Aaron was immune at this point. "Is that all this is? You making sure I'm on a leash, and if I get a damn paper cut, I'm shut away and wrapped in gauze. What are you, my mom?"_

_"Maybe it would be better if you, uh... came home, and then we could talk about this..."_

_"When I come home, I want you--"_

_Gone. That's what he was going to say. I WANT YOU GONE. Those words, tough words, angry, venom words and everything would be fine._

_A sideways, glowing snake bite appeared in the rearview mirror, high beams and all. Spencer's right hand_ _dropped the phone. He lunged to grab the keys, but unfortunately, he was close to the bend of the road, and the snake was going 70 on a 35._

_The head of the serpent bunted against the left side of Spencer's Volkswagen at 70 miles an hour. Spencer and his car were jolted, turned at a_ _47 degree_ _angle, and consequently shoved into the ditch ten feet below the main road._

_Spencer_ _was now in the passenger_ _seat_ _. His eyes were blurred, but there were moments of clarity, like his hazard lights were on. There was a whining in his ears, like a whistle but worse, more unbearable, more ominous. He heard the whirring of his own blood in his head. He heard the screeching of tires, watched the headlights projecting on the trees get brighter and then dimmer, and then disappear completely. His keys were digging into his hip. His own throat was making garbled noises, and he felt something warm running down his chin._

_Over all the pain, the ungodly amount of scorching, stinging pain, he heard one thing._

_"Spence? Baby, are you okay? Can you hear me? Spencer. I'm going to hang up and call an ambulance, I don't care if you're fine. Please answer me."_

_The whine was high-pitched and pulsating and painful._

_And then there was nothing._


	8. Chapter 8

5:30 came around quickly. Quicker than he expected. It felt as though he'd just shut his eyes for a moment when his eyelids were attacked with beams of light. He slammed his palm on the button—which had braille on the top for the visually impaired. He figured it said SNOOZE. It didn't really matter. 

He told himself that this was how he was supposed to feel. Empty. Cold. Nothing like he felt yesterday. He told himself that the break was what they needed, that it would make things better when they got together. Which they would. He had no doubt they would. He loved Aaron. He just couldn't stand the circumstances and the way he was being treated. Everything was monitored by him; Spencer felt like he was being surveilled by his own boyfriend, and it was smothering him.  

So yes. A break would be good. For both of them, he hoped. 

The downside, and he would never admit this to anyone, was that everything suddenly felt dangerous. 

The coffee maker had been ominous since two mornings prior, but other problems were coming out of the woodwork. There was a corner of the carpet that was coming loose, and if he were to trip on it, he would smash his forehead on the corner of the TV, which would definitely leave a mark. The kitchen tiles were becoming more slippery by the day, and several of the electrical sockets were practically hanging out of the wall. 

However, if he were to tell Aaron—or, anyone—about this, it would make him seem like a coward. Or it would make him look like he couldn't care for himself. Which was untrue. And pathetic. 

He may have ordered coffee for delivery, though.  

And he may have quickly discovered that he had lost contact with all of those he had once considered friends in the past few months. Be it through not-so-accidental ignorance of text messages, his being too tired to get out of the house to join gatherings of his peers, or just... drifting. Drifting, in his relationships, happened often. Had it not been apparent in his current situation. 

So, yes. No friends. No boyfriend. Just a big, empty apartment with too many alarms, loose carpeting, and doom at every turn. 

Maybe he cried. But that was because of his show.  _Caleb didn't deserve_ _Brit_ _tne_ _y_ , he told himself.  

 _Spencer_ _doesn't deserve Aaron,_ he told himself.

He turned the TV off before the credits could roll and pulled his laptop onto his chest as he laid on the couch, pulling up the same ASL video he'd been watching half-heartedly for a few days now. With a sigh, he pressed play. 

Somewhere across town, in a hotel room with two queen beds and only one person to occupy them, Aaron laid on his stomach and cracked open the new book he'd bought at the store just an hour earlier while looking for some way to distract himself. He flicked through the pages, his hand flat and moving in circles on his chest, trying to remember what Spencer had done. 

He stopped and squinted at the page.  

"Please," he read aloud, signing it as well. "Please." 


	9. Chapter 9

Aaron parked in the reserved spot for him, right in front of the new building, a plaque with his name on it displayed in front of him, clean and new. He had always despised briefcases before, but he had all of his papers and pens laid out inside, and he figured he could get used to it. He was a stickler for organization. He knew that, yes, but he'd been slightly putting a damper on it due to Spencer's diluted distaste for labelled cabinets and drawers. He felt free, in a way. A sad kind of way.

He opened the car door just enough to kick it open, pushed himself out of the car, grabbed his case and closed the door with his hip. Made him feel bad ass. Which was not common now. 

The building was tall. And beige. There were about a million windows on the side of the building he could see, but he imagined there were plenty more out of his eyeline. That was all he could say about the place, though. He quickly fell into the crowd of suits that were swarming toward the entrance and he would have smiled about how in-place he felt, had his first thought not been to text Spencer about it. 

The lobby smelled like strong cologne.  _And a bit like Spencer._ And the man behind the desk up front had good fashion sense.  _Like Spencer._ He continued to follow the swarm of business operatives into an elevator, which played a smooth jazz version of Spencer's favorite classical song, and down a hallway, which was painted Spencer's favorite color of violet, and into a hive-esque room full of cubicles of with a purple trim that Spencer would just  _love._

He was led to his own cubicle and he began to unpack—he placed his Freakonomics book on the desk to his left, his pens to the right, tossed a couple packs of copy paper onto the shelves across from him.

The entire place reeked of memories of Spencer. Purple this, purple that. One man (he thought it was a man, anyway) a few cubicles over had a high voice. The Golden Ratio was framed on the nearest wall. Every time he shifted in his chair, it would whine, like Spencer would do when he was bored.

The only thing in the entire main room that didn't remind him of anything on the topic of Spencer was a man near the water cooler. A man who was heading straight toward him. 

"Hey," the man said before he even stopped walking. He pointed to his nametag, "I'm Stephen."

"I'm..." Aaron mirrored the man's movement, tapping his own shiny nametag, "Aaron."

"I couldn't help but notice your, uh..." He pointed around Aaron, "...Book."

"This?" Aaron picked it up and held it to eye-level, almost afraid that, somehow, the man wasn't even talking to him. 

"Yes." From behind his back, the man pulled out his own copy. Aaron's mouth was hanging open. "Steven Levitt is my absolute favorite author ever."

Aaron's eyes widened. "No way." He opened the front cover and held out the signature for Stephen to see. Spencer had read the book a few times before, but had never expressed that much interest in it.

"You're kidding." Stephen reached out hesitantly to hold it, but looked to Aaron for permission, "May I?"

"Sure." Aaron stuttered. 

"Wow," he exhaled, "This is limited edition."

"Yeah," Aaron said, proud.

"Would you want to... like, talk about this... some other time?"

Aaron thought about that for a moment. Stephen seemed nice enough, and... well, he wasn't going to say the name of the certain someone, but they didn't seem to want anything to do with him for awhile.

"Yeah. Here's my... card," Aaron traded the book for the card and smiled shyly. "Thanks."

Stephen smiled and nodded, turning and ducking into a cubicle a few feet away. 

Aaron fell into his chair and ran his hands through his hair. 

He was fine. This was good. He was moving on. 


	10. Chapter 10

Spencer let his fingers roam through the cardboard boxes. He wasn't quite sure why he was at the record store. God knows it made no sense. He was just looking, that was all he could do. 

He had to get his mind off of Aaron somehow. He couldn't stop thinking about how today was his first day on the job and he wasn't there to do all the cute stuff Aaron probably wanted. He was probably anxious about it, too. Which made Spencer feel like shit.  

It was his decision, though, and as soon as he made that decision, he realized that Aaron was most likely having a blast without him at his new job with all of his money and time to spend. Fuck. 

So, yes, there were too many hazards in his apartment and he had no current friends, so this was the only way he could survive currently. If he died via loose carpet or boiling water, he'd die extra due to embarrassment. 

He felt a tap on his shoulder. Part of him was excited, hoping to find Aaron standing there with that cute look in his eyes, but instead he turned to see someone completely different—maybe even the opposite of Aaron. Full beard, dark hair, gauged ears, pierced nose, arms covered in tattoos. Seemed like he didn't belong in the record store full of 50's classics. Seemed like he wasn't the kind of guy to approach Spencer. 

"Hey, I was talking to you," he said, his brows furrowed. Not necessarily menacing, but definitely confused.  

Spencer almost panicked. He was inclined to, but he took a deep breath and pointed to his ear.  _Can't hear._ He made an X with his arms and pointed to his ears again.  _Deaf._  

"Oh," he nodded before looking around and smiling. He gestured to the building they were standing in, to the boxes full of music that Spencer would never be able to hear again. "What are you doing here, then." 

Spencer pointed to his chest, then to his mouth, forming a wide (fake) smile.  _Makes me happy._  

"Ah. Same. What do you—or, what did you listen to?" 

Spencer grimaced, but pointed to the box he was closest to, full of old Gladice Knight and Springsteen albums that made him think of his grandma. He looked at the other man and made an over-exaggerated face.  _The real old shit._  

The man smiled and held out his hand. "I'm Ethan." 

"Spencer," the brunette replied, out loud, startling the other man. His speech lingered on the S but otherwise, he trusted that it sounded like him. 

"Your voice is high," Ethan said. 

Spencer grimaced and nodded.  _Yeah._  

"Anyway. I like the old shit too," the dark-headed man said, his shoulders slumped and relaxed, "You like Springsteen?" 

Spencer nodded.  _Yeah._ He held his hand out, parallel to the floor, at hip-level  _Since I was little._  He made a mustache with his fingers.  _My dad._  

Ethan smiled. It was wide, but unfamiliar, and Spencer honestly hated it. "Same." 

Spencer nodded for just a moment, but it felt so wrong to talk like this to someone else. It had been so long since he'd chatted someone up, and now it was a million times harder than it had been. He was sort of glad that Ethan had been able to carry a short conversation with him, but he needed to plan his night in his head. Maybe watch a sad movie and sleep on the couch. Set the alarm up on the coffee table, and just not care about anything. 

He gave Ethan one more smile before turning back to the box and leafing through the records.  

He felt a tap on his shoulder again. Spencer turned to Ethan again with a raised eyebrow. 

"We have a lot in common." 

Spencer tilted his head. He pointed back to the music boxes,  _Music_...He looked around and then shrugged.  _What else is there?_  

"We can talk about it more over some take out." 

Spencer repressed the urge to roll his eyes. But he had nothing else to do, and if someone was there, he wouldn't risk dying prematurely, no matter how much he wanted to.  

Spencer shrugged and gave a half-hearted nod.  _Sure._  He pulled out his phone out of his pocket and opened a new contact, holding it out to Ethan, who eagerly entered his information. 

Spencer texted Ethan his address and held up 5 fingers.  _Five o'clock good?_  

Ethan smiled and nodded, "Yes." 

 _Cool_ , Spencer mouthed. He tucked his phone into his pocket and went back to going through the records, biting his tongue.  

He was moving on. That was good.  

Maybe. 


	11. Chapter 11

"I need to tell you..." Aaron said, arms full of pillows and dressed out in unfamiliar and tight-fit pajamas, "I'm currently on a break with someone." 

Stephen looked up at him, "Okay?" 

"Just... so you knew that." He shifted in his stance. He was uncomfortable, to say the least. "Where do I...?" 

"Oh, just beside me," he gestured to the seat next to him. Aaron shuffled over and sat.  

Nothing in the entire apartment smelled like Spencer's place, and it was off-putting. Like he didn't belong there. But it was much too late to ask to leave; his clothes were somewhere in a washing machine and he'd already said he was fine here. But it was wrong. It was so wrong. 

It wasn't even necessarily relieving to not have to look out for Spencer. He kind of missed having an ear out for noises or sitting in his chair slightly turned so he could easily jump out of it if it was too quiet in the apartment. It was...  _boring_  wasn't the right word... it was stuck on the tip of his tongue... 

"How'd you get this job, Aaron?" Stephen looked over at him. It was obvious that a hand-to-leg touch was implied, but Aaron looked too out-of-place for it to be casual. 

"Worked too much," Aaron said with a [forced] scoff. "I was lucky, the office I was in wasn't very pro-active. I was the only one who did my work on time and made early work of progress repo--" 

"Same!" Stephen held up a hand. 

Aaron squinted at the hand before hesitantly high-fiving him. He hadn't high-fived someone in ages. It had been at least high school. Yikes. 

He retrieved his hand and reached into his pocket. Stephen smiled at him and asked if he wanted hot chocolate -- "No," Aaron said, looking at him oddly – before exiting the room. 

Aaron opened Spencer's contact and went into their messages. He started to scroll up, remember the good times, maybe convince himself to leave, but he noticed the bubble in the bottom left corner. Spencer was typing. 

For a long time. A scary long time. Either a long message or he was deleting things he was saying... either way could be good, or really bad. He was hoping it was the former.  

But then the bubble disappeared. He knew what was happening—Spencer was doubting himself. He always did that. Especially when they were just friends and he didn't want to bother anyone. If anything, this was the right time to be bothered.  

He typed,  _what is the sign for "yikes?"_  

He waited. The response was almost immediate. 

He got a picture. 

Aaron made a face.  _Did you make that?_  

Spencer responded after a long wait.  _Bought it._  

Another pause before Spencer continued typing.  _Did you know there's an entire Etsy community of deaf people that just... make stuff? Deaf stuff?_  

Aaron smiled.  _I did not._  

Spencer started typing again just as Stephen returned into the room.  

"What are you smiling at?" He said, curious and also jealous. 

"Nothing," Aaron said, unconvincingly, tucking his phone back into the pajama pocket.  

_Unfamiliar_ was the word. He got it now. 


	12. Chapter 12

Spencer extended his fingers and crossed his thumb in front of his palm, moving it from his ear to the air in front of him.  _Hello._ He moved the palm of his hand toward his chest.  _My_ _._ He used his two fingers on each hand to make an X over his heart. _Name._  He formed the letters  _I_ and  _S_ and those of his name.  _Hello, my name is Spencer._  

He let out a long breath and fell back onto the bed. The night before was exhausting. Ethan wouldn't stop talking about things. Eventually, Spencer's eyes hurt and he just closed them. Ethan must have forgotten Spencer couldn't hear him for awhile because he wasn't stopped or tapped. The take out was mediocre, he was definitely not a fan of the man's taste in food, but he smelled vaguely like Aaron, like home, and he was more than happy to let the guy sleep on his couch.

But now, he was bored. Bored enough to attempt to learn some basic ASL. Bored enough to do anything to get his mind off of the man on his couch. And nothing was more taxing and time-consuming than ASL. This was what he had learned so far. It was nothing like learning piano. He actually had to make facial expressions at the same time as he was speaking with his hands. He could do it, sure. But he didn't want to, which made it harder.

The light on his phone flashed. Spencer immediately picked it up. There was only one person it could be. But he missed Aaron anyway.

Aaron had sent him a good morning text. How precious. Spencer sent one back and set his phone back down on the table. It was easy. He didn't even need to think about it. 

He settled back into his learning pose, crossing his legs and pressing play on the video he was watching. 

The bed dipped behind him and Spencer almost sighed as he turned to look at Ethan, who was looking at the screen, confused. 

"What are you doing?"

Spencer raised an eyebrow and pointed to his brain,  _Learning._

"Why?" Ethan scrunched up his nose, "I can understand what you're trying to say when you're silent."

Spencer stared at him for awhile. He pointed at the computer, then himself. He made an X with his fingers and pointed at Ethan.  _I'm learning for me. Not for you._

Ethan looked at him, a gentle embarrassment radiated from him, but he just shrugged and said, "You still don't need to learn it."

Ethan stood and left the room, his jaw moving, most likely asking where the food is. Spencer didn't answer. 

Spencer grabbed his phone and began to type something along the lines of  _help. u_ _nwanted guest raiding my pantry_ but decided against it. He turned the phone off, turned the brightness down on the laptop, and googled the ASL signs for  _get the fuck out of my house._


	13. Chapter 13

Spencer stared at the glass on the kitchen floor from his perch on the counter, overlooking the mayhem he had caused, wondering if it was really that smart to send Ethan out of his house in a fit of rage. Not really rage. But something close. A seething kind of anger, maybe. Enough to kick him out.

But yes, just as he figured, he was useless on his own. He hadn't even heard the machine crash to the ground, but he felt the scalding water and sharp glass hit his ankles, and in seconds, he was up on the counter and frantically brushing his skin off. But that was the end of his plan.

He didn't know where his phone was. Probably in his bedroom. But now he was on an island, surrounded by sharp glass and most likely still hot water and he was unsure as to how he was going to get out of the silly situation he'd gotten into. So, in an empty apartment, he let himself cry in frustration until he couldn't anymore. More importantly, until the water cooled down and he could locate a path to leave the kitchen and get the broom.

Before he could take action, the door swung open and Spencer wanted to scream and tell Ethan to get out, but he didn't. Most importantly because Aaron stepped into the apartment.

"Hey, I just needed to get some clothes-- Spencer, what are you doing?"

Spencer looked at him, in awe, the relief crashing into him like a wave and almost knocking him down from his place on the counter. Aaron's confusion turned into absolute panic as he looked down to the ground.

"How did this... Are you okay? Oh, my God. Are you okay? Spencer?" Aaron set the empty bag near the door and half-walked-half-sprinted over, peering over the damage before holding out a hand, "Here, I'll help you down--you're bleeding a little bit! Spencer, why didn't you tell me?"

Spencer threw a mindless hand behind him before gesturing to his position.  _My phone's somewhere else. I'm stuck._

"Christ, well... Here," Aaron helped him down, letting the very barefoot, very shaken Spencer step on the toes of his shoes. "I'll fix it. It's okay."

Spencer was bright red. He sat up on the bathroom sink as Aaron cleaned and bandaged all of the cuts and burns on his feet, his lips moving as if he were mumbling under his breath because he knew Spencer couldn't see him from this angle. Nonetheless, it was nice to be with him again. Despite the circumstances.

Aaron patted Spencer's leg, a signal that he was done, and Spencer stood up, wobbling a bit. He placed his fingertips to his chin and brought his hand outward.  _Thank you_ _._

Aaron smiled and brought his right hand up from his chest.  _You're welcome._

Spencer stared at him. Something was happening in his chest. Something familiar and very overwhelming.

Aaron hiked a thumb over his shoulder, "I should probably grab my stuff. Stephen's probably waiting out front still."

The feeling crashed and burned immediately. 

Spencer nodded and looked away, face burning for a completely different reason. Who was Stephen? He had no reason to be jealous or upset; he was the one who called for this break. Maybe Aaron was itching to get out of it. That would make sense. Maybe.

He felt a tap on his shoulder and looked up. 

"Unless you want me to stay?" Aaron said, probably repeating it, a muted look of hope on his face. 

Spencer's eyebrows raised. He mocked Aaron's earlier motion, throwing his own thumb over his shoulder before tugging on his shirt collar.  _Stephen might miss you. You were just supposed to get clothes._

Aaron leaned in close. He looked hesitant but seemed to shake it off, kissing Spencer's cheek. The butterflies returned. "This is just a break," Aaron assured him, "Not a death sentence. He's just a friend I'm staying with for the time being, okay?"

Spencer nodded. Okay.

Aaron waited for a moment but then turned to leave. Spencer quickly stopped him, grasping onto Aaron's sleeve. 

Aaron looked over his shoulder. Spencer gave him a look. A  _please stay_  look. And Aaron couldn't help himself. 


	14. Chapter 14

Spencer stretched his arms over his head and pressed the snooze button on the alarm that he had somehow managed to press a few buttons on in order to make the loud sound go away. Aaron was hugging onto one of the pillows with an arm, his entire body covering the rest of the bed that Spencer wasn't occupying.  Snoring, almost shaking the entire bed, but Spencer didn't really care. 

It was nice. Things being slightly less than back to normal. Having to call each other buddy but still kissing each other's cheek. It was fine. Comfortable. 

And Aaron was apparently exhausted from this new friend he made? Stephen or something. He was a totally OCD dude who washed his clothes religiously and made Aaron sleep on the pull out futon outside of Stephen's bedroom in case Aaron had a nightmare, which Aaron had apparently told him wasn't a problem, to which Stephen replied with something about how he was there anyway. It was very embarrassing. 

Spencer had made the (silent) comment about how that was how he used to see Aaron--a raging OCD nightmare with an affinity for buying things that the person they love would enjoy. Aaron made a face at that and said,  _"You think he likes me?"_ To which Spencer made an even more exaggerated face and shook his head, pointing to his chest, then to his face, and drew an  _S_  in the air with his finger.  _I bet he looks at you just like I did when we met._

Aaron squinted for a while and nodded.  _"Yeah. But it's just annoying when he does it."_

It felt like they had just gotten together again. Easy to talk again. Out of his mouth, too, as much as he hated it. And it made him feel good because every time he'd open his mouth to speak, Aaron's eyes would open wide and he'd kiss his cheek and say how proud he was or that he loved his job and... well, Spencer could get used to it. Again. 

Aaron's phone kept vibrating, though. They both knew they'd have to tell Stephen that the previous futon agreement was void, but the phone was on the other arm of the couch, at least 3 and Spencer was practically on top of Aaron, pointing at the TV and attempting to explain his show. He had missed several episodes due to Matt's lack of a sleep schedule and an inability to get Spencer up at 5:30.

"So, Brittney is in love with who?"

"Jason. But also Brad. It's com-mplicated. But they're all doctors. So it's kind of under...understandable."

Aaron kissed Spencer's cheek and nodded, "Totally understandable."

Aaron's phone buzzed again. Twice. But Aaron rested his cheek on Spencer's head and let the brunette rant and would grin to himself when Spencer would mispronounce something and not whine about it.

Back to normal.


	15. Chapter 15

_Five minutes after he had heard loud noises on Spencer's end of the phone, six minutes after the phone call ended, and ten minutes after he was called by the officers that had found his contact under Spencer's Emergency Contacts, Aaron was in his car on the highway, speeding with his hands gripped on the wheel, a million thoughts about what could have happened emerging before being pushed away by others about worse things. The officer had asked for Aaron's license plate number before he got behind the wheel, just in case someone in their division tried to arrest him. They were very thoughtful, and Aaron had given the officer a very rushed and tearful thank you over the phone._

_The hospital entrance and admittance_ _was_ _blurry. His mind was just screaming WHERE IS SPENCER and IS HE OKAY as he signed things and stepped through doorways and down long halls and when he got into the room, he was overall thankful that Spencer didn't look as bad as he could have._

_No noticeable gashes on the skin that wasn't obscured by a stiff gown, a few scratches on his cheek and forehead, a few bandages on his arms and a few tubes sprouting from his veins. It was terrible, nonetheless. Spencer would have a fit once he woke up._

_"There's deep trauma in the brain," a voice said behind him. "We predict he'll be out for_ _awhile_ _but there's no guarantee."_

_"What does that mean," Aaron said, knowing that it meant Spencer could wake up as a different person than he was a few hours earlier. He just needed to hear it._

_"There's no need to worry, sir." A white coat came into his peripheral but he kept his eyes on Spencer. "Would you like to stay the night? I can bring you a visitor chart."_

_"Yes please," he said, quietly._

_Aaron_ _has talked a lot. A lot. The nurses told him that Spencer was able to hear everything he said, that it made a difference. That Spencer might follow the sound of his voice. Away from the light. All of that stuff. The things that made him feel better._

_He said he loved him and that it was going to be okay and that hopefully this would end well and that Spencer would be okay. All of his fears and hopes, things he wanted to do when Spencer woke up._

_Two days later, as Aaron sat slumped in a chair, Spencer stirred. He opened his eyes. Rolled onto his left side with his back to Aaron before jumping and grasping onto his arm (the one with the I.V.) in pain. He grimaced, not seeming to notice Aaron._

_Aaron_ _, of course, had noticed Spencer._

_"Oh. Oh, my God. Spencer? You're okay. He's okay!" Aaron turned and yelled out the door for the nurse. When he turned back, Spencer was looking over his body in the hospital, seemingly wracking his brain for how he got there. His face fell as he remembered._

_Then Aaron shifted, and Spencer jumped again, looking at him with wide eyes._

_"Hey," Aaron said quietly._

_Spencer_ _'s eyes went even wider._

_"What? Sorry, did you not want me to be here, I--"_

_Spencer_ _shook his head. He opened his mouth for a moment before mouthing something._

"I can't hear you."


	16. Chapter 16

The day following the cherished reunion, Aaron entered his cubicle with a smile that almost hurt. The purples were more vibrant and his chest wasn't aching anymore. They had some things to work out, sure. But Aaron couldn't voice how happy he was to ask a question and be met with gestures rather than voices.

He watched Spencer's show with him in the morning, at 5:30, and stayed up until it was time to leave. Spencer was hesitant to let him leave, but Aaron kissed his head and said he'd be back for lunch. Spencer's shoulders became less tense and he gave a hesitant wave.

Aaron was productive for the first quarter of the day. He worked faster than he had in awhile, probably more efficient than ever, but he couldn't tell. Mostly, he was working toward lunch.

Then Stephen appeared. Seemingly out of the blue, peering over the division with curiosity.

"How are you?"

"Fine," Aaron said, still unable to wipe the grin off of his face, although it was faded and a tad more irritable. "You?"

"Fine," Stephen said aimlessly, pressing his fingertips to the bottom of his jaw and looking off. "What are you doing tonight?"

"Spencer has a show he wants to start, but it's hard to read their lips and the subtitles are in Arabic and he hasn't gotten around to learning it."

Stephen nodded slowly, the hands that grasped the ledge of the divider tensing and relaxing.

"Well, have a good day."

Aaron nodded. And proceeded to do that.

He texted Spencer every other hour, checking in to see what he wanted to eat and if Aaron needed to pick anything up. The answer was usually just "bring yourself," but Aaron knew what he liked.

Every now and then, Aaron would feel eyes on the back of his neck, but he knew it was better to be upfront with Stephen. That was going nowhere. He told the guy he was on a break, anyway.


	17. Chapter 17

Spencer tapped his foot on the floor, staring into the cabinet with more remorse than he could handle on that particular day. He'd certainly gone soft, in some way. A weird, tired kind of soft. 

He was in a haze. His eyelids were heavy and his hands were buzzing. He slept all night, eleven hours full of sleep, and he was  _still_  so exhausted. He was happy though. The promise that Aaron would come home to him made him feel warm. 

But that didn't fix his exhaustion. 

Spencer reached into the shelves and grabbed a bag of Goldfish. He needed a snack. Being tired was tiring. He sighed and pulled himself onto the counter and dug his hand into the bag. He stared at the worn handles with a frown on his face. 

He was stuck in a state of discomfort. His tongue was falling asleep from disuse, his ears were burning but he couldn't hear the blood sloshing around, his feet still ached from the burns and cuts from his mishap earlier in the week. Pain was a different sensation without the audio that came with it. It felt disingenuous and fake. Like his suffering (although small) was pointless. 

There was nothing else to focus on, either. It was difficult to keep his mind on any one thing. No music to keep him on task, alarm to remind him to do things. There were apps and accessibility features, sure, but they were a hassle to set up and some of them seemed excessive and... he wasn't quite out of his stubborn mind set. He'd be damned if he had to download an app to make his life "easier." That wasn't how things were supposed to work.

Spencer huffed and shoved food into his mouth. A part of him was disappointed with the flavor--he had somewhat expected his sense of smell and taste to immediately heighten once he lost his hearing. But he supposed that wasn't the case.

Five minutes earlier, Aaron entered the house with his bag over his shoulder and a wide smile on his face. He dropped his keys on the hook beside the door. He opened his mouth to yell his return, but he turned to see Spencer staring into the cabinet, his face screwed up in a frown.

Aaron closed the door slowly and set his work bag under the side table. He watched as Spencer thought. His hands were hanging by his sides and he was standing at an angle, putting more pressure on his right foot because it didn't hurt as bad. He just looked tired.

He grabbed a snack and pulled himself up onto the kitchen island, grimacing at the pain of his feet, before shoving his hand into the bag. He seemed deep in thought, staring ahead, his back hunched and his spirit seeming to fade.

Aaron couldn't bear to watch it any longer. He picked up his bag and made a big movement, an  _I just got here, I'm closing the door in an exaggerated way_ movement. 

Spencer turned and caught sight of the man. He smiled and set the bag to the side. He ran his fist turned out ('A') down his jaw,  _Aaron_ , before holding his arms out. Aaron set his bag down for the second time and crossed the room as quickly as he could.


	18. Chapter 18

On the first day of the third month, Spencer began to dream. 

After three months of dark and quiet, a few flashing lights, nothing major. Sleeping was like a sensory deprivation tank and it took him a few nights to get used to it and actually sleep. At the time, he couldn't update Aaron on his drab dreams because he was still sleeping in his office, but eventually he got used to it. 

It was much harder to contain his excited panic when Aaron was sleeping right next to him. 

He scrambled out of the covers and sat on top of Aaron's chest, shaking his shoulders, doing everything to wake him up without actually screaming, which was a last resort he was willing to take.

"Spencer..." Aaron groaned tiredly before opening his eyes and quickly moving to sit up, "Spence? Are you okay? What's happening? Baby, do we need to go to the ER?"

Spencer rolled his eyes and gently (maybe not so gently) hit his head. Aaron grunted, his eyes wide and confused and slightly upset. The brunette frowned and ran his fist in a circular motion over his chest,  _I'm sorry_. 

"It's okay. I just thought something happened," Aaron said quietly. 

Spencer pointed to himself and then to his brain, making little firework-like explosions with his hands.  _I had a dream._

"You did?" Aaron asked. He tried to push himself up on his elbows but Spencer was still perched there. "What was it about? You know you're naked, right?"

Spencer looked down at himself and made a face.  _When did I get naked?_

"I don't know," Aaron laughed. "Tell me about your dream."

Spencer paused for a long time before he frowned and shook his head.  _I don't know how._

"Okay," Aaron nodded. 

Spencer ran his hands through his hair and Aaron just watched him. This was certainly one of his favorite ways to wake up. 

Spencer had an idea. He rolled off of Aaron and grabbed his hands, pulling him out of bed. 

"You're still naked," Aaron said through a laugh, but Spencer didn't see him. He was too busy rushing out the door. Aaron looked over to the clock.  _3:00 am._

There was no reason to discourage Spencer, though. The differences between him now and him last month were striking and a bit dizzying. It seemed as though the shock had worn off and had taken off a few years of age as well. 

He walked to the dresser and grabbed a pair of shorts for his boyfriend, stumbling on tired legs, following the sound of doors opening and closing and Spencer's random hums that Aaron wasn't entirely sure he knew about. When he made it to the end of the hall, Spencer seemed to have gathered all the supplies he needed. 

Every single blanket in the apartment was piled in the middle of the living room. Neutral tones. Bright reds and blues. Disney Princesses. Zig-zags and polka dots. What seemed to be the entirety of the color spectrum that humans could see, and then some. A mountain of blankets, most of which Aaron had never seen before. It was glorious.

"Okay," Aaron said, standing in front of Spencer (on the other side of the mountain) so that he could see him. He handed him the shorts.  "What now?"

Spencer looked down at his bounty and reached his arms out, straight in front of him and pointed down. He splayed his fingers out and waved them wildly.  _Now we spread 'em out._

Aaron hadn't had that much fun in awhile. In low light, for hours, they threw colors on everything in sight. Clocks and picture frames were taken off walls, lamps were placed on the floor and set as light as possible.

It was a mess. A colorful, warm mess, though, and Aaron understood why Spencer was so excited.

"It's beautiful," Aaron said. "A fire hazard, sure. And definitely not something I would think to create at 3 in the morning... but it's beautiful."

Spencer nodded and rested his head on Aaron's shoulder. He yawned.

They settled down in a nook of blankets. Aaron removed the blanket that was obscuring the television. They rested their backs on the front of the couch and Spencer turned on his show.

"I love you," Aaron said definitely. He wrapped both arms around Spencer and smushed his cheek against the top of his head. 

 _I love you too,_  Spencer signed, shaking the symbol in the air over his head. Almost like he was silently yelling it.

Aaron smiled. 


	19. Chapter 19

He'd been thinking about it for awhile--seeing what was going on. He hadn't been back to the doctor since the accident, and he still hadn't gotten a clear explanation as to what happened. He was too terrified of the possible results to look it up. 

WebMD had failed him before. And he hadn't gotten around to reading up on the effects of car crashes on the inner ear. For some reason. 

Aaron was working late one particular day, and although Spencer loved him, he wouldn't be much help in the waiting room. He was an Out Loud talker when he was stressed, and Spencer didn't want to look at magazines the whole time. And... should the news be bad, if Aaron cried, he wouldn't be able to keep himself together. 

After Aaron left for work, Spencer stood in the middle of the living room with his phone in his hands. It was fully charged. Nothing was standing in his way. So he couldn't get himself out of it.

Spencer's first phone call in three months went like this:

_Spencer: H-hello._

_Secretary: Hi--_

_Spencer: I'm deaf so I can't hear anything you're saying. So sorry. But I... I, um, need to make an appointment with my doctor, Mr. Livingston. My name is Spencer Reid. That's R-E-I-D, and any time is good for me. My doctor has my email on file. So just email me whatever time is good. Thank you._

_Secretary (distantly): Do I... do I say anything?_

_Spencer: I'm really sorry. Thanks._

Spencer took a well deserved nap afterwards. He almost collapsed. 


	20. Chapter 20

Waiting rooms were something that were unbearable without sound. He imagined that he could live happily without the heavy breathing and the rustling of magazines and the old lady at the check in counter talking for hours and... well, the sound of his name being called. 

But he couldn't. It was unbearable both ways. 

He kept his eyes locked on the door that the nurse would come out of, because he didn't want someone waving in front of his face like he was dumb. It took a lot of willpower not to look elsewhere. He was cold, he was tired, he was nervous. He regretted not telling Aaron. He needed a warm hand to hold and someone to translate his little gestures. 

But also--the cons. Spencer kept remind himself to think about the cons. 

Dr. Livingston was a tall woman with a pointed bob and skinny glasses. She had a generally slouched posture and she always stood when giving news. Which always made Spencer antsy. 

First, she looked in his ears regularly. She made no sound, but in his periphery, Spencer saw her scrunching her eyes. 

He turned to look at her and stared at her lips, waiting. 

"Are your ears sore at all?" She asked. 

Spencer blinked a few times. He nodded. 

"Okay. We need to do an x-ray."

 _That seems like a bad sign._  Spencer thought.

"No worries. There is just a bit of inflammation, and I want to make sure that it isn't the worst case scenario."

Spencer raised an eyebrow. He tried not to look too worried. 

"Well, there are two things that could have happened. You were in an accident, correct?"

Spencer nodded again.

"Blunt force trauma is clearly evident. Two options from here are temporary hearing loss, and permanent hearing loss."

Spencer nodded. Again. Kept his lips sealed. If he opened them, he would probably cry. 

Permanent hearing loss. That made things more real. 

"Make sure you have no metal on your person. The nurse will be back with a gown."

Spencer made a face.

"Yes, you have to wear a gown."

Spencer sighed. The door clicked shut behind her. 

He checked his phone. He still had hours before Aaron would get home. He had time. 

It would be okay.


	21. Chapter 21

When he was inside the machine, it was much less scary than when he was out. Inside, although cold and hard and unfamiliar, there was more hope that things would turn out okay. He was further away from results and his clothes were across the room and every part of him synonymous with his dilemma was far away. 

And it hummed. He liked when things hummed--the vibration made him feel a bit closer to reality. 

Once he was outside, and he put his clothes back on, and he was more of a human again, all there was left to do was wait. He wasn't great with waiting.

He needed Aaron. Around noon, he texted him a pre-taken picture of the coffee maker and asked when he was going to get home. Aaron answered almost immediately:  _I'll be back around 5_

Spencer tucked his phone into his pocket. The doctor returned with a clipboard and some paper and her glasses low on her nose and her eyebrows heavy.

"Spencer, can you tell me more about your accident?"

Spencer paused. 

"You can talk out loud, I won't judge you. Or, write it down on this notebook."

Spencer held his hand out. He took the book and the pen and began to scribble. 

He handed it back to her after a few moments. It read:

_I was in the driver's seat. I was on the phone with Aaron. Then the car hit me from the back, the car fell off the road. Then I was in the passenger seat. And then I woke up in the hospital._

The doctor nodded as she read, "And how far did the car fall?"

Spencer's eyebrows raised and he held his arms out.  _Really far._

"Okay," she nodded and typed something into her laptop. "Did you lose your hearing immediately?"

Spencer shook his head.

"But quickly, correct? And you lost consciousness soon after, because you woke up in the hospital."

Spencer nodded. 

The doctor sighed and rubbed her eyes. 

"Your ossicles, the little bones in your ear that amplify sound, are damaged beyond easy repair."

Spencer grimaced.

"Any surgeries from this point on would have to completely replace them, and technology is advancing, but it isn't completely foolproof."

Spencer nodded. 

"Surgeries would be risky."

Spencer was sobbing on the inside. 

"Here are some pamphlets for the different procedures," she placed them gently into Spencer's hands. "I'll let you sleep on it. Email me with your decision."

She stood and turned to the door.

"If I did get it," Spencer said out loud, his voice shaky, "What is the probability that I would end up worse than I started?"

She thought for a moment. "The surgeries that you would need are... extensive. It's likely that there would be complications."

"Okay," Spencer said. "Then I don't want it."

"You don't want to--"

"No, thank you."

Maybe Aaron wasn't a fan of Spencer's disability, but he  _really_ wouldn't like Spencer to be dead.

He stepped onto the city bus with a feeling he wasn't sure he'd ever felt before. Somewhat of a bitter pride that settled underneath his stomach. 


	22. Chapter 22

Spencer stumbled off the city bus and rushed up the stairs to his apartment, reaching into his pocket with shaky hands to grab his keys. It was four o'clock and Aaron would be home any second. Paperwork took much longer than he anticipated and even then--he didn't have all of the information. Aaron had the majority of his medical records because Spencer wasn't responsible enough to care for them. 

He ran into the house and slammed the door, locking both locks and kicking his shoes off in different directions. 

Before Aaron came home, he had to shower and scrub the doctor's office smell of him. Aaron had bought him this new shower gel stuff that sank into his pores and basically bleached the outer layer of his skin. That would work. 

This terrible way of living was officially his forever. That was the worst case scenario that he dreaded, and he was almost bitterly glad that he got it over with. Well, it wasn't the worst case scenario just yet. Aaron hadn't come home yet.

Spencer was confident in his poker face. He hadn't cried as much as he thought he would--he had anticipated the worst anyway. He'd lived in complete silence for enough time that it wasn't so much of a surprise anymore. 

Maybe he was just trying to convince himself everything was fine. If that was the case, sure, everything would be fine.

He brushed his teeth and brushed his hair and pat his face with a cold washcloth, made it seem like he was somewhat together, not making an effort to feel okay. When Aaron got home, he would smile and hug him and ask what he wanted to watch on TV.

_Permanent Hearing Loss._

Everything was going to be fine. 

 _Unfixable_.

Yeah. He was okay.


	23. Chapter 23

_When Aaron met Spencer for the first time, they were moving in opposite directions. Spencer had one arm through the right sleeve and was maneuvering his other arm through the other sleeve, clearly upset but channeling it into a form of faux confidence. The clamor of the building behind him quieted once the doors swung shut. He was stumbling--his shoes were too tight for his feet and his resolve was wearing thin. It was about 30 minutes until the next bus came but he was willing to call a cab, even if it killed him. He just wanted to get back to the apartment and lay down._

_Aaron was wearing a baby blue polo shirt and jeans. He was getting dragged by his friend Thomas toward the doors. He was groaning, talking about work tomorrow and how he was tired and he didn't want to deal with this tonight. Thomas just shook his head and kept pulling him toward the bar._

_Aaron saw Spencer first. He was hard to miss. Aaron, however, was very plain and very easy to miss._

_But Spencer didn't. He sent a small smile as he passed and gave him a shy wave. The confidence was almost stalled by the sight of Aaron, who smiled back._

_As Spencer passed, Aaron stopped in his tracks and turned to watch him walk away. Thomas groaned and kept tugging, but Aaron was unmovable. He kind of wanted to see what kind of car Spencer had. Probably a really expensive one. He looked like someone important._

_"I'm gonna go in," Thomas said, annoyed. "Come in whenever."_

_"'Kay," Aaron nodded dismissively. The noise of the bar increased and then became muffled as the door closed._ _He felt creepy._

_Spencer pulled his phone out from his pocket and began to call an Uber. He looked behind him to see if the Polo Shirt guy was still there, and he was, looking like a lost puppy and a deer in the headlights all at once._

_Spencer waved to him again before opening the Uber app._

_Aaron waved back with a confused look on his face._

_A long black car pulled up eventually. Aaron almost died--it really seemed as though Spencer was a celebrity. Spencer gave him one last look over the shoulder before disappearing into the back of the black car._

_The next time Aaron met Spencer, they were going opposite directions._

_Aaron was walking out of a bank and turning right onto Somerset. Spencer was leaving a coffee shop with a friend and turning left onto Somerset._

_Spencer's friend was talking his ear off about "last night" with "this girl." Spencer had glasses on and a shirt that was too big for him. He looked exhausted._

_Aaron was wearing a button-up and black pants. He looked less preppy but the awkward energy was still there. He had a few paper-clipped applications in his hand, and he looked very put together. Spencer almost didn't recognize him._

_They gave each other a gentle, mutual nod as they walked past. Before he got out of earshot, Aaron heard Spencer's friend go "who was that, pretty boy?"_

_T_ _he first time they met as themselves was at Thomas's house._

_On the first night that Spencer and Aaron saw each other, Thomas entered the bar to find a posse of very stylish individuals. He took a liking to one of them, and they began dating. And then they got engaged. And there was an engagement party._

_Aaron wore a graphic t-shirt. Spencer wore blue jeans and a black t-shirt. And his glasses. He had a champagne glass full of water._

_Aaron saw him first. Spencer's eyes were down and he was standing against the wall. Thomas and Candice were nowhere in sight. Just a sea of incredibly stylish people and incredibly bland people with champagne. And in the middle were Spencer and Aaron._

_"Hey," Aaron said, just loud enough to be heard over the chatter._

_Spencer looked up, confused, but his face softened into a smile._

_"Hi..."_

_"What's your name?" Aaron asked, taking a step forward._

_"Spencer."_

_"I'm Aaron." He wondered if he should hold his hand out for a handshake.  
_

_"Nice to meet you, Aaron." Spencer looked around. "Do you want to get out of here?"_

_"I--"_

_"The roof is pretty cool."_

_Aaron looked for Thomas but shook his head. "Sure."_


	24. Chapter 24

Spencer had never held onto a secret like this, especially not from Aaron. He wasn't even sure if he could categorize it as a secret. It was more of an  _Important Piece of Information that Spencer Didn't Want To Disclose Because It Made Him Upset to Think About_. So, he was in a constant state of stress. 

It was constant rationalization. But he didn't like the thought of actually having to say it or acknowledge it was there. This was a theme in his life. It was nothing new. But often he would rationalize watching his show or buying a shirt. Nothing that was this intense.

The theme of stubbornness still existed. This was just a different kind. 

It was like he'd closed a lot of doors and locked them. He shoved his doctor's visit in the one beside the kitchen, he shoved the permanent nature of his dilemma into the one beside his closet. He shoved the fact that this was irrational down the flight of stairs outside his door and told it to STAY OUT. But he knew it would come knocking in a few hours. His eyes hurt, his ears hurt, but nothing was certain.

He didn't know what would happen if he told Aaron, his best friend in the world, and that was the worst part. If Aaron converted back to Smoke-Alarm Crazy, he couldn't take it. He didn't want to be smothered - not again. 

It was all so overwhelming. Spencer took a nap, his skin warm and raw from the scrubbing. By the time he woke up, Aaron was home, humming to himself (bouncing up and down) and making dinner. Spencer kept his eyes closed and focused on his breathing.

 _Everything was going to be fine,_  Spencer said to himself inside his worried head. When the question came up, the question would come up.  _Everything was going to be fine._  

 


End file.
